All that is Left of the Wall
by TheNewIdea
Summary: In which the traditional high school AU is flipped and turned on its head. Various Disney characters from both the original shorts and the films, run a high school in a poor and degraded neighborhood in which education is frowned upon and crime is encouraged. They will be the port in the storm, the guiding light for those who have lost the way, student and teacher alike.
1. Chapter 1

The hallways were dirty despite the fact that they were cleaned five times every day, the lockers were broken, usually by students, and if they weren't broken they were rusted through, making them completely useless. The walls leaked constantly and the windows were always open, as a result the entire building smelled of mold and musk, which in combination wasn't a good thing for anyone, especially those who suffered from allergies, like Basil of Baker Street.

Basil was pacing in Room 304, he was dressed in a black suit and tie, for he wanted to be presentable. In his hand was his cane that he occasionally twirled to amuse himself as he waited for class to begin. He stared at the human sized tables before him and casually began to calculate their length, for they spanned the majority of the room, leaving enough for a walk way on either side as well as room for cabinets and a few sinks. Basil stopped for a moment and looked at the front of the room, laughing to himself as he stared at the large human sized desk that was meant for him.

"Welcome to the real world Basil" the mouse said to himself as he clambered up the side of the desk, "Let's put our best foot forward shall we?"

There were many reasons as to why Basil was a high school teacher. It began with a dream and the dream ultimately turned into a large project funded by Disney and Warner Brothers. The project, called The Possibility Initiative, was issued in an effort to recognize the cultural significance of the Golden Age of Animation and the resulting eras and to improve the relationship between humans and cartoons, who coexisted with each other. The Warner Brothers had the Looney Tune University, which was fed by the high school. The administrations accepted toons in both institutions, but primarily focused on humans, specifically those in low income communities, who benefited most from the opportunity.

The students filled the room one by one, each of them either inside of themselves or within their own groups talking about trivial nonsense; as they entered the room Basil was busy going over class notes and the attendance rooster, trying his best to remember names.

"Settle down" Basil began as the stragglers came in, "Welcome to chemistry. My name is Basil."

One of the students in the back row, the type of guy who wore a letterman jacket for the sake of fashion and not because he was on the football team, raised his hand.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he asked, "Seriously, where's the teacher?"

Basil laughed and shook his head pitifully, a small smile creeping across his face.

"What is your name good sir?" Basil asked curiously.

The student smirked and let out a ridiculous laugh.

"Mind your own damn business" the student replied, "Go back to your mouse hole Squeaky, stop messing with us, and bring in the teacher."

Basil said nothing and took out a piece of chalk and began to write his name on the board that was behind the desk. When he finished his name he continued until he reached the end of the desk, at which point he sat the chalk down and looked back at his class. Basil took in a deep breath and sighed.

Member of the Royal Victorian Order; Detective; Professor of English and Chemistry; Author; Counselor; Husband; Father; Brother; Son.

"These are my titles" Basil exclaimed, "The order in which they are written is irrelevant, for they are all of equal importance but they come nowhere close to describing who I am to any of you."

Basil looked around the room, staring at the faces, most of them blank and full of indifference.

"Your first assignment" Basil continued, "Is to list your titles and their meaning. Then you are to decide, each of you, why or why not these titles define who you are."

A second student from the front raised her hand. Basil turned towards her, flicking his whiskers to show his attentiveness. She was wearing a pink dress and white shoes, which complemented her dark skin and deep far reaching brown eyes that spoke of many things, both soft and hard, quiet and loud.

"Sir" she began, her voice calm and sweet, like that of honey, "What does any of that have to do with chemistry?"

Basil ignored the question and instead answered with one of his own, for he too recognized her beauty, both outer and inner.

"What is your name Miss?" Basil replied, never losing his gentlemanly manner.

"Josephine" the girl answered promptly.

Basil nodded and gave a small smile, delighted that the question had been asked.

"Chemistry , to put it simply, is a way of understanding the world around you" Basil explained, gesturing to the entire group, "How can you be expected to understand the world around you, if you do not understand yourself? Knowing yourself is the beginning of the war ladies and gentlemen. It is up to you to decide when to start fighting."

The first student, whose name was Jack, scoffed, brushing Basil off as a joke and a waste of time. Basil saw this and jumped from table to table, using his cane to propel him on his way until he landed next to him, at which point Jack stopped what he was doing and stared directly into Basil's face as defiantly as possible.

"What do you want mouse?" Jack asked, "Can't you see I'm busy?"

Basil looked Jack up and down and shook his head pitifully, seeing nothing of particular interest.

"Busy?" Basil replied, repeating Jack's cadence, "Busy with what? Wasting my time with your interruptions? If you aren't going to listen then perhaps you might pick up your things and leave. You can come back when you decide to use the brilliant brain God gave you for something useful."

Jack moved to leave, Basil stopped him with his cane.

"You move when I say you can" Basil continued, "Now tell me Mr. Living what is going on that is preventing you from learning and me from teaching my class?"

Jack scoffed again and shook his head, letting out another laugh. Basil, at this, scurried up Jack's arm, got directly in his face, grabbed his cheeks and pulled down, using his cane as leverage by sticking it in Jack's open mouth and moving it with his tail.

"Physics teaches us" Basil began, still pulling down, "that torque is the tendency of a force to rotate-"

Jack began struggling, begging and pleading to be set free, Basil ignored him and continued pulling, he was almost on the desk.

"Around an axis, by either pushing or-"

Basil reached the desk and let go of Jack's cheeks, he then took out his cane and slapped Jack in the face.

"Pulling."

Jack breathed heavily and stared at Basil in complete disbelief, there was nothing to suggest that Basil was a mouse of great strength or able to physical threats and carry them out, but obviously looks were deceiving.

"Do not disrespect me" Basil said sternly, "Disrespect me or anyone else and I will personally make sure that you fail this class. In this room there is no difference between me and you. Are we clear?"

Jack did the only thing he could do and nodded, his eyes fixated on Basil's stare, which was stoic, void of all obvious emotion. Basil moved in closer, next to Jack's ear and began whispering.

"See me after class Mr. Living."

Jack nodded again and lowered his head. Basil, satisfied for the moment, jumped down and made the long walk back to the front of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Two doors down in Room 304, an English class was halted. The teacher, Belle, had just finished roll call and was about to assign the work for the day when Pete, the school janitor, knocked on the door, a mop and mop bucket beside him.

"Heard something needed cleaning?" Pete said as Belle opened the door, making room for him to pass.

"Yes" Belle replied, "One of our students was a little nervous about being called on in class."

Pete looked around on the floor, first seeing the vomit, and then the girl who produced it, in a now vomit covered white dress. It didn't take a genius or a person with fashion sense to know that the dress was a Sunday dress. Pete also noticed that her shoes, equally covered in vomit, were black dress shoes. Pete leaned in towards Belle, curiosity and concern setting in.

"What happened?" Pete asked, "This kind of thing doesn't just happen. More than a fear of public speaking if you ask me."

Belle raised her eyebrows, exhibiting curiosity of her own.

"You're paid to mop floors and clean" Belle exclaimed, "Not to be a psychologist."

Pete huffed, for he begged to differ, the program guidelines specifically stating that all participants, no matter the position, attend to the needs of students to the best of their ability. If that meant being a psychologist, then as far as Pete was concerned, that meant being a psychologist, to say absolutely nothing about Jiminy Cricket, the school counselor.

"What's her name?" Pete pressed, looking at the girl and seeing her face of humiliation and embarrassment and pitying her.

"Emily" Belle answered rather sharply, "Now please help clean up this mess-"

Pete dipped his mop in his bucket and wrung it, after which he began to mop the floor. Pete simultaneously looked at the students. One boy was staring out the window, a blank stare on his face, his eyes appeared to be far-reaching; another was looking at the clock on the wall, mirroring the first's stare. Two rows back from where Pete was standing, three girls were huddled in a group talking amongst themselves in loud and broken English by the sound of their voices Pete concluded that they were deaf. To his immediate left Pete saw another girl, about the same age as Emily, making various clicking noises with her mouth and tapping her feet, making no other sounds.

The janitor, having cleaned up the mess, turned towards Emily and smiled, extending his hand.

"Come on" he said softly, "Let's get you cleaned up."

Belle moved in front of him, extending her arm in disapproval, blocking his way.

"You can't do that Pete" Belle declared authoritatively, "You're not trained for Special Needs."

Pete rolled his eyes, incredibly annoyed.

"You need help Belle" Pete defended, ignoring her statement, "You can't teach these kids on your own, where's your assistant?"

"Ursula?" Belle exclaimed, "Mickey got rid of her. She was too hard on the kids, action had to be taken."

Pete stood up and leaned on his mop, using it to support his fat body. He stared at Belle with an uncharacteristic stare of warmness and understanding, for he knew that deep down Belle was putting the interests of the kids first.

"Let me help you" Pete pleaded, "English ain't my strong suit but I've been told I'm a people person."

Turning back towards Emily, Pete pulled out a red lollipop and handed it to her, he then patted her head and pulled out his walkie-talkie that was precariously clipped to his belt.

"Clarabelle" Pete said, rather loudly, "We have a Code Three in progress in Room 304, need some personnel down here."

Pete pocketed his walkie-talkie and continued mopping. Emily only stared at him, her eyes wet with tears, having no idea what was going on or what a Code Three was. Belle rolled her eyes, wanting nothing more than for Pete to stop trying and leave the situation alone.

"Let me handle this Pete" Belle said as she stepped in front of him, grabbing his attention, "You don't know these kids. They're socially, mentally, and physically underdeveloped. Most of them are only here because they were dumped in our hands or problem cases that need to be solved to the best of our ability."

Pete shook his head and sighed, a small wave of hopelessness and defeat washed over him just as Pluto, Chip, and Dale came at the door.

"What do they expect?" Pete asked, not really sure what to say, "We can only do so much. We ain't miracle workers."

Belle nodded in partial agreement, still despite this she could not help but feel as if there was something that could be done, that perhaps with more funding, more workers or perhaps both, that the Special Needs area of the school would be better equipped to deal with all types of children with various deficiencies and the tragedy of the situation would be diminished.

"Don't talk like them Pete" Belle declared, "You're better than that. Now please, get out of here."

Pete nodded, smiled and pulled out a small business card from his jacket pocket, handing it to Belle.

"Here's my cell" Pete exclaimed, "Let me know how things are getting on. You need help with anything, anything at all, call me. I'll even brush up on my reading if it comes to that, just let me know."

Belle took the business card and folded it haphazardly in her hand before placing it on her desk. She then gestured towards the door and opened it, causing Pete to step out into the hallway, after which it was unceremoniously slammed.

Pete sighed and pitifully shook his head. Pluto, Chip, and Dale turned towards him, faces of concern on all of them. Chip, who had clown makeup on his face, slowly began to wipe it off with a rag, it was obvious that he was distressed, still he said nothing, being inside of himself for a moment, taking the time to think and to process the situation. Dale sighed and gently patted Chip's back, for he knew that this was only time that Chip agreed to be silly, normally being a very serious and straightforward type of person. Pluto sat on his haunches and stared up at Pete, trying to read him.

"What's wrong with everyone today?" Pete asked, fighting a slow waterfall of tears, "I ain't that bad am I?"

Pluto smiled and brushed against Pete's leg, trying his best to be comforting. He wanted to say something, for he did have the ability to speak, currently not operating under Disney contract, serving as a free agent, but like Chip he kept his silence, in favor of being the closest thing to an actual dog as possible. Pete, in response to this, kneeled down and ruffled Pluto's fur on the top of his head, at which he began to laugh and give a quick embrace around the dog's head. Pluto did the only thing he could do and attacked Pete with various licks to his face, causing Pete to laugh more than usual.

"Thanks" Pete said as he let Pluto go, "It's nice to know I'm not completely hated."

Pete turned to Chip and Dale as he stood up, giving a casual nod before he moved down the hall, mop bucket dragging behind him. Dale looked after him, surprise and confusion on his face, he then turned back to Pluto, who only shook his head and laughed to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

As the morning turned into early afternoon, the students, mostly freshmen, had entered the cafeteria for lunch. The lunch room wasn't anything important, at least in appearance, for it had tables and chairs, the occasional booth, and the line was at least decent, both in terms of length and upkeep, the owners believing that food is one of the most important parts of the education system.

The head cook, for he considered himself a cook since he actually cooked the meals, was Horace Horsecollar, who was standing over a large stove in the back of the kitchen area shouting things at Tiana, his protégé. Horace wasn't shouting in order to be mean or distasteful, but in order to be heard over the stove, which was incredibly loud due to its age.

"Hot patties coming through!" Horace declared, as he walked over, a plate of hamburgers in his hands, "We've got some seasoned with onions, peppers and cheese, some with only cheese, and plain."

Tiana inspected the burgers for any kind of defect and taste tested them for a moment, checking for quality. Tiana turned towards the spice cabinet and pulled out a bit of Worcestershire sauce and gave a confident nod to Horace, letting him know in her own way that this was what was needed without having to say anything and risk shouting.

"Good idea" Horace continued, raising his voice, "Why don't you finish these, and I'll work on the cake?"

Tiana nodded again and began pouring the Worcestershire, Horace moved back to the back counter, looking for the cooking pan. Scanning the shelves and opening every cabinet there was to open, Horace banging his head almost every step of the way, he failed to find the pan he was looking for. Instead he found several spoons, a few cooking pots, and Emile the rat, who was rummaging, searching for scraps of food.

"Get out of here!" Horace exclaimed, "How many times have I told you, no rats in the kitchen!"

Emile huffed and folded his arms, clambering out of the cabinet he found himself in and stepping on the counter.

"You let Remy in here all the time" Emile replied, "How come I can't be in here?"

Horace groaned and casually picked Emile up, holding him by the tail.

"Remy is a gourmet chef" Horace continued, "You're just a pest. Maybe if you did something beneficial to society it would be different. But no, you steal food from homes and bother people, both of which are incredibly annoying. Now get out!"

Horace walked towards the nearest window, opened it and threw Emile out, not really caring if he landed on his feet or on his back. Tiana, who was holding the pan that Horace was seeking, and had been doing so for the past few seconds, only looked on in confusion and disbelief that Horace could be so stupid as to miss the pan that was a shelf above him earlier, and could be dismissive of Emile, who at least in Tiana's mind, was only looking for a single bit of bread.

"Is this the pan you're looking for?" Tiana exclaimed, throwing it Horace's way and purposefully hitting him in the head, "Open your damn eyes fool, it was right there!"

Horace huffed and rolled his eyes, picking up the pan that had bounced off of his head, clanking on the floor as it were a symbol to a drum kit. Twirling it around for the sake of twirling it around, Horace finally set the pan down on the counter and began the process of making a lemon cake, which he would cut into squares and serve to ungrateful students.

It was at that moment that the bell for lunch began to ring, letting out the classes and sending a hundred and fifty kids, all of them hungry and most of them getting the only meal of the day, towards the cafeteria that was still in the middle of preparation. At the same time in Basil's classroom, Basil and Jack were having a very heated conversation about who was going to be in charge. The obvious answer was that Basil, being the teacher, was in charge indefinitely, Jack however, failed to see the significance that Basil carried with him and did not understand cartoon physics, refusing to believe that a mouse could do anything, let alone speak or having the brain capacity to teach chemistry.

"Honestly Jack I don't give a damn if you learn science or not" Basil exclaimed, finally having had enough, "That's not the point."

Jack huffed, insulted that Basil suddenly decided, for no particular reason, to switch to informalities, mostly likely in an effort to get him to lower his guard. It didn't work, but still, there was something to be said for the attempt.

"Then what is the point?" Jack replied, "If you ain't going to teach me then what the hell am I doing here?"

Basil shook his head, for Jack had missed the mark entirely.

"You are here because we believe that you can amount to something" Basil continued, "What that something is, is up to you, but it is our hope that it will benefit society in some way."

Jack rolled his eyes and hung his head, bored out of his mind, and wanting nothing more than to go to lunch, for he was incredibly hungry. Basil, seeing this, folded his arms, annoyed, and sighed, in his head trying a different approach in order to get Jack to care about something.

"I can make these speeches and tell you what it is I want you to do all day" Basil began, regretting himself that he was retracting, "But all of that won't mean a thing if you don't even bother to listen to what I have to say and take it to heart. Call me a bad teacher or a bad person all you want, I am not the one who is going to be stuck working as a janitor for the rest of his life."

Jack tensed at this, for he had seen the things that Pete had to clean and they weren't pretty in any sense of the word. The thought of mopping up vomit and taking out trash until he was in his sixties was something that he couldn't bring himself to live with. Jack had dreams, dreams of becoming the next star, of being something other than what he was in order to show the people who told him otherwise that he had made it, but as long as Jack remained where he was, how he was, he would get absolutely nowhere and those dreams would die before they even had a chance at life.

"I want to be the next big thing" Jack declared, "I want to sing."

Basil stopped, for Jack was the last person that he would expect to have musical aspirations, still, he supposed, stranger things have happened.

"Why?" Basil asked, confused, "You don't strike me as a singer Mr. Living. A football or basketball player perhaps, not someone who is musically gifted. Are you sure you're cut out for it?"

Jack nodded slowly, thinking about his answer and finding confidence in it. He still found it hard to believe in Basil, both in the fact that he actually existed and that he legitimately cared about his wellbeing, but he was willing to suspend his disbelief and simply accept whatever help Basil offered, if he offered any at all.

"You need to see Ms. Elsa" Basil continued, "She's a bit of an egotistical nut as far as I'm concerned but she can help you. You might also want to see Mr. Iago as well, being a parrot has its advantages. Mimicry is something of a specialty with him. Elsa can teach you notes, music, and structure; Iago can help you find your voice. Two different philosophies towards the same goal. You are to study with them every day for an hour and give them this-"

Basil handed Jack a piece of paper, on it were several boxes that Jack knew nothing about and a place for signatures, one for himself and the other for Elsa and Iago.

"They are to sign this paper" Basil explained, "After which they will take notes in the boxes on your progress. If you slip or slack off once you're done. Do we understand each other?"

Jack nodded and casually folded it, placing it in his pocket. Gathering his things, Jack nonchalantly slung his backpack over his back and headed for the door. Basil, knowing that he would feel uncomfortable if he simply left it there; ever the teacher, the mouse decided, for no particular reason, to part with one final piece of advice, before he could give it, Jack was already gone, heading to lunch. The mouse, resigning and accepting that he had done all that he could do in terms of Mr. Living, gathered up his materials, picked up his keys and walked out, locking the door and heading for the teacher's lounge.


	4. Chapter 4

The teacher's lounge was average by most standards. Most of the tables were in good working order and the walls had little, if any, holes in them, making for a structurally sound room. The overhead fluorescent light blinked on and off occasionally, the ceiling leaked in a few places, and in the harder to reach corners there was a decent amount of mold, making it even worse for allergy sufferers, such as Basil, who was sneezing his head off, than it already was.

Sitting at the nearest table was Donald Duck, the gym teacher, across from him was Rafiki, who specialized in philosophy, one of the few courses in the school that counted towards college credit. Donald, who was casually twirling his whistle around his neck, and Rafiki were in the middle of enjoying lunch when Basil entered the room.

"Ah there he is!" Rafiki said warmly, waving Basil over, "The mouse who holds all the cards. Come and sit."

Basil rolled his eyes and shook his head, for he did not deserve such esteem nor did he ask for it.

"There are better mice than me Rafiki" Basil replied as he took his seat, "Some of them are definitely better at cards."

Rafiki waved him off and huffed, refusing to believe Basil's humility.

"Bah!" the baboon exclaimed, "Why deny it if it is true? You've got heart my friend, and that's more than I can say for most-"

Rafiki gestured towards Donald, making it as obvious as possible.

"Take this one for example. No spine. No brain. Always acting before he thinks and never looking beyond his own needs!"

Donald, who had stopped his twirling at this point, raised his eyebrows curiously and leaned in, trying to read Rafiki's words to find any kind of humor in them. Upon finding none the duck took offense, folding his arms and giving the baboon a death stare.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Donald declared, "I do plenty of thinking. I just don't overexert myself."

Rafiki laughed and shook his head, "It means that you're overly impulsive. You feel too much, value the opinions of others more than you value your own and you have lost the ability to stand up for yourself."

Donald tensed at this, understandably insulted, Basil, in an attempt to diffuse the situation, for he detested unnecessary conflict, switched topics.

"How are the kids Donald?" Basil asked, mentioning Huey, Dewy, and Louie, each having gone their separate ways- Huey, in the psychiatry business; Dewy, as an air mail carrier with Launchpad McQuack; and Louie, an advertising executive at ACME under Wile E. Coyote, the CEO.

The mention of his nephews caused Donald to relax and for his breathing to return to normal, as his brain began scrolling through the various memories that he had stored in the back of his subconscious. On an emotional level, he felt as if they were his own children, despite being their uncle and thus, having no real reason other than love and stability, to take them on, as if anyone needed more justification.

"They're happy" Donald answered as he readjusted himself, "What more could anyone ask for?"

Basil nodded, he couldn't help but agree, happiness it seemed, was the key to self-actualization, the quintessential essence of life and all of its forces- in other words, being the best individual that one could be, obtaining their full potential.

A loud and hurried scream came from the hallway, causing all of them, including the other teachers in the room- Robin Hood, Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, Mulan, and Tick-Tock the Crocodile, the tormentor of Captain Hook- to peer their heads out of the teacher's lounge to find Horace and Br'er Rabbit, another janitor, running and screaming their heads off, both of them covered in flour and batter.

"Is it that time of the day already?" Tick-Tock said, looking at his stomach as he tried to read the clock inside it, "We still have five minutes until total anarchy."

Donald nodded, "The first day is always an early one Tick-Tock" the duck replied, "Now come on, let's see if we can do something."

Tick-Tock shrugged and casually began flossing his teeth, the others paying no mind. Mulan, for her part, began calculating a plan of action in her head and immediately proceeded with giving instructions, all the while the students, mostly freshmen, began bursting out of the room collectively deciding to give chase to the poor janitor and the cook.

"Alright here's the plan" Mulan declared, "Tick-Tock, Oswald, you're the diversion. Get them back to the cafeteria-"

Tick-Tock and Oswald each gave a look to each other, the look that meant that they were each having the same crazy idea. There was a slight possibility of them getting fired or transferred, but it was a chance that both of them were willing to take at the moment, if only to have a crazy idea and maybe teach a lesson at the same time.

"Robin, Rafiki, get Horace and Rabbit to safety."

Robin casually looked over Mulan's shoulder down the hallway, he could see Horace and Br'er being beaten to a pulp with screaming, both from the students and from Horace, following soon after. Br'er Rabbit, at this point, began shouting and begging for help.

"Damn" Robin said to himself, not wanting to be rude and interrupt, "They're really ripping into them aren't they?"

Rafiki couldn't help but nod in agreement, still, out of respect for Mulan he said nothing. The princess herself was too busy thinking about strategy to hear Horace and Rabbit's screaming, which caused Oswald, Tick-Tock, Robin, and Rafiki to leap into action after a few seconds of rationalization, in part to stop the madness and because they already had been told what it was they were to do. Donald, of his own accord, preferring to listen to common sense than to Mulan, immediately ran as fast as he could towards the principal's office. Basil, being the only one still standing around, rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Mulan dear" Basil declared, "Turn around."

Mulan, more out of curiosity than anything else, did as she was told and turned to find a tidal wave of students fleeing towards the cafeteria in a full stampede. Behind them was Tick-Tock and Oswald, the latter riding the former as if he were a cowboy, both of them roaring and screaming their heads off, as they ran back and forth across the hallway as if they were herding cattle into a corral. Rafiki and Robin, meanwhile, were busy tending to Horace, who had broken an arm, and Rabbit, who only received minor injuries by comparison.

Seconds later Donald, accompanied by Mickey Mouse, the principal, and Bob Iger, the visiting superintendent of the district, reappeared. Mickey, being a casual and informal sort, was dressed in a simple white button-up shirt and brown dress pants, while Iger stuck to the traditional brown suit, complementing Basil, both of whom looked as if they were about to go to a funeral.

"What the hell is going on here?" Iger asked as the last of the students rushed into the cafeteria, "Explain this!"

Iger's stare found itself on Mickey, the obvious scapegoat, who in turn, looked at Donald, who looked at Mulan and Basil, all of them searching for answers. Oswald and Tick-Tock came to a screeching halt, stopping just before Iger, Mickey, and Donald. The crocodile gently leaned his head down, allowing Oswald to climb off and remove the harness that he had attached to him.

"Afternoon sirs" Oswald said welcomingly, "What seems to be the problem?"

Iger stared at Oswald for a few seconds as if he were completely insane. Oswald, getting the hint, immediately retracted and turned to Tick-Tock, who, being a gentle creature of habit, gave the warmest smile he could and a reassuring wink that ultimately did nothing to calm Oswald's nerves.

"Tick-Tock" Mickey instructed, "Make sure they stay in the cafeteria while we sort this out."

The crocodile nodded and hung his head in partial shame, for the last thing he wanted was to cause embarrassment, for Mickey or anyone else. Tick-Tock wanted to explain the situation, for he had some understanding of it, having heard a good bit of Horace's fearful blabbering, but he decided for the sake of everyone and to not complicate things further, to comply with the request and stand at the door.

Robin and Rafiki slowly made their way to the group, behind them was Br'er Rabbit, who was tenderly rubbing his own cheek; Horace, meanwhile, was trying not move, out of fear that something else besides his arm had also been broken. Iger and Mickey, upon seeing this, both resisted the urge to ask questions, in favor of hearing some kind of explanation. Robin, who was more level-headed and straight to the point than Rafiki, explained to the best of his ability the situation.

"It started in the lunch line" Robin began, "Typical nonsense really. He said-she said stuff, the usual, nothing we hadn't seen before. Then someone pulls out a switchblade and starts stabbing, prompting Horace to intervene."

Brer Rabbit nodded, confirming Robin's account.

"The fightin' was easy enough to break up" he added, "The attacker weren't no good at anything, much less knife welding, so it was simply a matter of breaking his damn hand. After that the room just exploded, everybody going against everybody- biting, kicking and shoving. The only reason they turned on Horace at'll was because it was easier to blame on 'im."

Mickey raised his eyebrows, confused, for Rabbit and Robin's account only made the situation more complex. He needed names to punish those responsible, which given the circumstances, the fact that it was the first day and that most of them were freshmen, was an impossibility without direct questioning.

"Any idea who they were?" Mickey pressed, "Give me names Rabbit. Any of the usual suspects?"

Brer Rabbit shook his head again and sighed, "Jack Living wasn't among 'em" he replied, "Neither was Bobby Jay or Tyler Novak. Whoever they were, they're new."

Mickey turned to Donald and Rafiki, who promptly followed him into the cafeteria. Iger, meanwhile, noticed that Horace was still on the ground. Pete was standing over him, talking into his radio to Clarabelle, trying to determine if a hospital was necessary.

"Just calm down Horace" Pete said as he gently sat the horse up, who was still blubbering and shaking as it were the middle of winter, "Everything is going to be alright."

Horace was generally unresponsive. Pete, in an effort to stall until Clarabelle arrived, began with the standard question procedure done with shock victim- asking Horace his name, where he was, his age, what the color of the sky is, where he was born, who he worked for, what he did, and where he wanted to be in his life in the next five years- all of these questions Pete knew the answer to, taking particular note of the last one, which he kept to himself.

"Don't worry about a thing" Pete continued, still trying to be reassuring, "Clarabelle's going to fix you right up and you'll be back to flipping burgers in no time."

Horace blinked a few times, the first recognition that he gave of his awareness, and slowly began to breathe in and out. After a few moments of staring at the ceiling, and at Pete, who was rubbing his head with the cleanest rag available, Horace slowly came back to the world.

"Pete" Horace exclaimed, slightly confused, "Am I dead?"

Pete laughed and shook his head, thankful that the answer was a definite one. The janitor began checking Horace's pulse, making sure that his heart rate was back to normal levels despite not really being able to tell without proper equipment. Once he was sure that Horace was going to come out in as healthy a condition as possible, Pete began, rather uncharacteristically, to pray silently to himself.

Clarabelle arrived soon after, causing Horace to breathe easier and for Pete to finally take his leave of the cook. He still felt a sense of responsibility for him, and even though his injuries were minor in the grand scheme of things, they were still significant enough to warrant worry.

"Let me know how he's doing" Pete said to Clarabelle as he walked away, "I'd hate to lose a valuable business asset."

Clarabelle had no idea what Pete was talking about or why he had referred to Horace as a business asset. She assumed it was an insult, for Pete's obvious avoidance of the word "friend" was made even more so with the analogy. Horace however, knew that it was a compliment and a substantial one coming from Pete, that it was his way of protecting his own heart.

Mickey, Donald, Iger and most of the teachers involved in the incident were still talking about the best course of action by the time Pete made his way over. Basil had already taken his leave and returned to his classroom, preparing for the next lesson; Oswald was late for a doctor's appointment and so had to run out of the building; and Rafiki had a meeting with Jiminy Cricket, and so headed for the administrative office; leaving Robin Hood, who was currently giving more details into some of the key students that had been identified; Mulan, who was investigating how a knife got into the building in the first place; and Tick-Tock, who stood at his post, still guarding the cafeteria door.

"I'll have Basil look into it when he has time" Robin said, not really sure what more there was to be done, "Until someone confesses there isn't much we can do but give them all the same penalty. Doesn't matter who started it, they all broke the rules, they need to be punished. The guilty will receive their dues when they are discovered."

Mickey and Iger agreed with this reasoning, it was pointless to continue discussing the matter further until proper investigation could be done. Still, they couldn't help but wonder how the weapon got into the school to begin with, for there were metal detectors placed at every major entrance. Mulan, after a few minutes of deductive reasoning could only assume that some kind of smuggling was involved. It was the only thing that made sense given the circumstances.

"They'll do anything to make their point that they don't want to be here" Mulan said rather sadly, "They think because they have it hard outside they have to make equally hard in here in order for everything to make sense."

All of them nodded in agreement and the group began to disband, it was then that they noticed Pete, who had been standing on the sidelines, listening in to the conversation, pretending to contribute.

"What do you want?" Iger asked, "Can't you see we're busy."

Pete nodded, "Yes sir I can" he answered, "I just want you to know that if you need anything I'll be here."

Iger nodded sarcastically and closed his eyes, patting Pete's massive frame in meaningless appreciation.

"We'll keep that in mind Pete" Iger continued, "Now if you don't mind, would you kindly clean up the blood in the hallway? We don't need this place looking like a shithole more than it already is."

Br'er Rabbit immediately stepped in, putting himself between Iger and Pete. The rabbit stood up on his haunches, stretching himself out to his full extent, and quickly grabbed Pete's mop, bucket, and broom that was behind him.

"I'll take that there job" Brer Rabbit declared, "Pete can do the cafeteria when the chilren are done."

Iger stared at Rabbit, not really sure if he was being told off or ordered to back off. He assumed it a bit of both.

"Are you telling me what to do?" Iger said defensively, "Because if you are I don't appreciate it."

Br'er Rabbit shook his head in disagreement, for Iger couldn't have been further from the truth.

"Not at'll, not at'll" Br'er Rabbit exclaimed, "Just doing a good turn for a good turn. Certainly you can understand that can't yah? I mean after all, you did give us these jobs with the expectation that this here program was going to benefit these chilrens."

Iger groaned and rolled his eyes, partially annoyed by Rabbit's thick Southern drawl. Mickey however, intervened before anything else could happen, not wanting a repeat incident in the span of five minutes.

"Come on Iger, leave him alone" Mickey said as he pulled the superintendent away, "Let them do want they will, it's not our concern."

Br'er Rabbit huffed victoriously, satisfied in some way that he had stood up Iger and had come unscathed.

"That's right" Rabbit taunted, "Go on back to your office and file those damn papers of yers. Leave the real work to those who care!"

Iger was close to considering murder at this point, still despite this, he took the advice of Mickey and ignored Rabbit to the best of his ability as they quietly headed back to the front office to discuss matters of general importance. Robin, when Iger was well enough away, could only laugh in hysteria at what had just occurred, refusing to believe it.

"Are you kidding me?" Robin declared, "That was the best thing ever!"

Mulan, who did not see why the situation was particularly funny, in fact finding in quite the opposite and instead seeing it as an insult to a high ranking education official, rolled her eyes and blamed the useless comedy on the general idiocy and slight sexism that she carried in regards to men. What she found funny veered more in terms of the ironic instead of blatant mean-spiritedness and sarcasm, which were more Robin and Rabbit taste of humor. Different strokes for different folks.

"If you don't mind I've got things I need to do- classes to prepare for, pain medicine to take- you know how it goes." Mulan declared as she walked back towards the teacher's lounge to gather her things, "If you need me I'll be in my room trying not bang my head against the wall."

Robin and Rabbit casually waved. Tick-Tock who was getting tired of guarding the door, carefully stepped away from it. Coincidentally the lunch bell rang for the second time, signaling the end of lunch hour, causing all the students in the cafeteria to blot out of the room and back into the hallway, trampling the crocodile and almost killing him, and scattering the others back against the nearest wall. When the dust settled a few minutes later and the hallway was cleared, Pete was already on the phone with Clarabelle, this time to see to Tick-Tock's broken tail and his chipped tooth. Br'er Rabbit meanwhile, gladly and without protest, began to sweep the hallway, whistling the "Splash Mountain Medley" to himself as if he hadn't a care in the world.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : The depiction of Bob Iger, and all subsequent depictions of real people are purely fictionalized for the sake of story telling. They are not in any way representative of the Walt Disney Corporation nor are they meant to offend.


	5. Chapter 5

The choir room was incredibly cold, typical of all music rooms in most American high schools; however, this one, with its ice sculptures and sentient snow creatures, was a choir room that was essentially Arctic in nature. The sign above the door that read "Warning, Abominable Snowman- Eats Children" was more of a joke than anything else but that still did not comfort Jack, or anyone else for that matter, the image of a gigantic snow monster eating and grinding their bones to make bread that wouldn't even eat engraved in their minds. Still, if only on Basil's good faith, Jack opened the door to the choir room.

The room itself was large, also like most typical music rooms, in order to account for acoustics. With enough room for twenty seven desks and a full size bleacher section for practices as well as a podium, stand, and chalkboard, the choir room had everything that one would need if they aspired to be a singer. But, being in a poor neighborhood and also being in the music department, an undervalued study, the desks and bleachers, new for the school but old by standards and never used, were empty and sad having never known the love and care of a student or a teacher.

Elsa was sitting at her desk in a small corner of the room when Jack arrived, she was wearing her traditional blue dress, apparently it was the nicest she had; she was also sporting reading glasses despite not really needing them in order to make herself feel more sophisticated, a sign of her inferiority complex that she hid rather well with regular psychiatric sessions with Jiminy Cricket and medication. Looking up from her coursework on the introductory class, specifically the classifications of tenor, alto, bass, soprano and all the intermediates, Elsa could not help but have the immediate first impression that Jack was there to make a smart comment instead of actually trying to learn something.

"So I take it that you're here to mock me?" Elsa said as she closed the binder she was working in, "Come to tell me that I shouldn't even be here or how stupid this program is?"

Jack shook his head, for he didn't really care about those things, at least not at the moment, having no idea of their significance especially in terms of the Project. The only thing he really cared about was getting out of the neighborhood as fast as possible, and if Elsa or anyone else was able to help in that regard he would accept it, even if it meant suspending his own reality.

"No ma'am" Jack replied, "I'm here to learn."

Elsa raised her eyebrows curiously and darted her eyes around, taking note of the state of the room and how it empty it was, at the same time noting that the titular abominable snowman that the sign suggested, Shadrach, was chained to the wall in the opposite corner.

"You're serious right?" Elsa continued, "Have you seen this place? Look around you. No one comes in here, what makes you think you can just walk right in and expect something out it?"

Jack pulled out the paper that Basil had given him and set it on the desk. Examining the paper for authenticity and understanding, Elsa began looking Jack over, as if she were inspecting him for defects.

"So the mouse thinks that you're worth it" Elsa declared as she stood up, "No offense to Baker Street but I just don't see it. I mean look at you, you're-"

Elsa paused for a moment, she knew that she would have to weigh her next few words carefully. Jack meanwhile, had folded his arms and was standing off kilter, as if he already knew that whatever it was she was going to say was going to be an insult.

"You're a jock. Jocks don't like music, they have no appreciation for it. If they do it's only temporary, they view as a way to get an easy A or to count towards Gen-Eds."

Jack rolled his eyes and huffed, in complete disbelief that Elsa, a teacher, would be so narrow-minded and misinformed. Although he did not value education as highly as most people he still found some value in it, for it was far better than the alternative of being shot in the streets over petty crimes. It was a survival tactic, a way to stay on top of the drug dealers and the pimps who controlled the power; an outlet to rage against abusive parents and the broken families, to save his own voice from not having to cry as long or shout as loud in order to be heard.

"You don't even know me" Jack defended, "how can you say that?"

Elsa shrugged and sighed, slightly hating herself for it, but regardless she could not argue with experience. Too many times she had placed her faith in students only for them to fall well below expectations, she was tired of being insulted and tired of seeing them fail of their own accord.

"Because it's always true" Elsa replied in a defeated sort of way, "Now if you don't mind I've got a lesson plan to prepare."

Jack laughed and looked around, "For who?" he returned, "You said no one comes in here. So what the hell are you doing expect wasting time?"

Shadrach fidgeted in the corner, anxious to see what was going on, a curious creature by nature. Elsa glanced over and rolled her eyes, for the monster was always wanting to get into things that it had no business being in.

"Hey" Elsa said, shouting across the room, "Calm down!"

Jack, curiosity getting the better of him, craned his neck over in the corner room. Upon seeing the monster, Jack did not flinch, for it did not seem menacing nor as if it ate children. An idea, a stupid and spur of the moment idea, popped into his head. Looking at the numerous piles of ice that littered the room, for Elsa no longer cared what condition the desks and chairs were in, essentially making the choir room her own personal sandbox, Jack picked up an icicle and slowly made his way toward the monster.

Shadrach only continued to fidget, casually tugging on the chain as if begging to be set free. The monster, although perfectly capable of ripping the chain off did not do so out of consideration for the wall, the building having done nothing to provoke its wrath and so was spared indignity. That did not the fact that Shadrach found it uncomfortable, for the neck brace that was attached to it was tighter than it should have been, Elsa having followed strict codes in the care and proper storage of large beasts.

"You don't seem too frightening" Jack said as he walked over, icicle in hand, "What your deal huh?"

The monster only tugged and struggled with its chain, paying Jack no mind and instead focusing on freedom. Slowly and carefully, with the confidence of a nervous child in a petting zoo, Jack approached Shadrach, open palm extended balancing the icicle as delicately as he could.

"Come on you stupid monster" Jack continued under his breath, "Take the icicle. Be a good little pawn to help me convince this bitch of my sincerity."

Shadrach eventually could not help but take notice of the small human that was pathetically extending a peace offering, for despite his intentions Jack was whimpering and shaking in fear. The monster laughed to itself as it thought about all the times that it had been offered gifts and never receiving them, mostly because the gifts were insincere and a practical joke played by Elsa's former prospective prodigies. Shadrach however, had to hope that somehow, this one was different, that despite his motives, for Jack was not a good whisperer, that he could be the one that Elsa had been looking for; and with a little bit of luck, Shadrach hoped that a friend could be found inside this small and pathetic human being. So, with this, the monster reached out, took the icicle and slowly began to eat.

Opening his eyes, for he had closed them, not wanting to look in the event that the sign above the door had proved to be true, Jack relaxed and smiled, satisfied that it had worked and that he wasn't being currently digested.

"See" Jack said, turning towards Shadrach with a sense of approval, "You ain't so bad."

Shadrach said nothing and slowly began to gnaw the icicle to a point in hope of using it as a pick of some kind, another attempt to break the chain that it found itself in. Elsa, who had been watching mostly out of morbid curiosity, for she loved it when Shadrach tormented annoying students, looked on unimpressed- her arms folded, her head tilted slightly to the left, and a stance that spoke of general indifference.

"One monster does not a good student make" Elsa exclaimed.

Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What's its name?" Jack asked straight-forwardly.

Elsa glared towards the ceiling in annoyance, she already hated the idea that Jack was in the room, not because she didn't want to do her job but because of previous experience and that she had been convinced of Jack's character.

"You're telling me that you keep that thing in here without giving it a name?"

The Snow Queen sighed and faced Jack, finding that his eyes were serious and his demeanor cold and disrespectful.

"Shadrach" Elsa answered, "Its name is Shadrach."

Jack nodded and turned back towards the monster, who was still struggling with the chain around its neck. It didn't take long for Shadrach to notice Jack this time, after which it sat down the nearly used icicle and rested on its haunches, where it was most comfortable.

"Why Shadrach?" Jack pressed, "Of all the names you could pick?"

Elsa shrugged and casually made her way over in order to hear him better.

"It's what it wanted to be called" Elsa defended, "Picked up straight from the Book. Don't really know why, but I guess anything is better than being called Marshmallow all your life."

Jack could only nod in agreement, for Marshmallow was a ridiculous name, especially for a gigantic snow monster. He couldn't but laugh at it for a bit, after which it subsided when he remembered the monster's current condition.

"Why is it in chains?" He said, a hint of sadness as he approached, placing a comforting hand on Shadrach's thigh; "Don't you think it would want to be free?"

Elsa nodded, for now Jack was stating the obvious.

"Of course it wants to be free" Elsa declared, once again taking the defensive, "But I can't change the school policy. This is the place I can keep it and still look after it. Iger says it stays in chains, it stays in chains. I don't like it any more than you do."

Shadrach, as if it knew that it was being talked about, gently put its hand on Jack's head and proceeded to pet it as if he were a cat or a dog. Jack, at the prospect of being petted, could only look up and laugh, grateful that the sign above the door was indeed a falsehood.

"It likes you" Elsa continued, "Now enough about that. What exactly do you want?"

"I told you" Jack answered promptly, "I want to learn."

Elsa huffed and shook her head, for nothing was ever that simple.

"You want to learn from me" Elsa replied, "You have to prove yourself. I can't just teach anyone."

Jack failed to see why Elsa had any restrictions as far her instruction went, given the size of her classroom and that no students were present despite it being well into the fourth class of the day.

"What do you want?" Jack asked, half joking and half sarcasm out of disbelief that he still had to prove himself even after everything that had been discussed, "You want me to find some crystal? Save a kingdom? Help you find a decent man so you won't PMS all the time?"

Elsa did not laugh nor was she amused, for like Mulan she had a specific type of humor, but unlike Mulan, hers was literal instead of ironic and not altogether funny, for she was still trying to figure out the way the world worked.

"You do realize I could freeze you where you stand right?" Elsa quipped, "I could have my monster eat you and it wouldn't make a difference to me; There are plenty of students just like you who will waltz in here one day expecting free favors. So show some respect."

Jack huffed, he failed to see why he should Elsa any respect considering that he had received little in return. The only person he actually managed to like was the Shadrach and the monster didn't even say a single word to him; the only remarkable thing he found out about Elsa was that she was too uptight and too judgmental to be of any use, until her opinion changed there was little to be done.

"Fine" Jack said, annoyed and tired of being insulted, "If that's how you want to be that's how it is. Give me that paper, stop wasting my time."

Walking out of the choir room, paper in hand and the sound of Shadrach's whining behind him, Jack made his way down the hallway, hoping to find better luck with Iago.


	6. Chapter 6

The orchestra room, like the choir room, was big, once again accounting for acoustics. Unlike the choir room however, the temperature was normal, in fact, it was a little on the warm side, for Iago, like Elsa, liked to be reminded of home as much as possible. There were a few chairs scattered about the room but most of them were arranged in a semi-circle around a whiteboard, in front of which was a music stand. In the corner of the room there was a piano, it was old, in poor shape, and in desperate need of tuning, but it was still a piano. It was on this piano that Iago was found, just as Keith, Fay and Josephine, Iago's only students, were packing up their things and heading to their next class.

Jack walked in with the same demeanor that he had when leaving Elsa, his shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets, and an annoyed and slightly smug expression on his face. Strolling casually towards the piano, Jack pulled out the now crumbled document and sat it on the piano. Iago ignored him, in favor of "Dancing Dogs" by Greg Maroney, which he was currently playing, not very well of course, given the piano's condition but it was still being played. An upbeat pastoral, the work was lively and something that one could dance to, as the name implied. For Iago, it carried special significance, for it was the first song he had learned how to play perfectly, a feat considering its complex nature.

"Class is dismissed" Iago said as he continued to play, never once looking up from the piano, "Come back later, I might have something for you."

Jack raised his eyebrows curiously, for he hadn't even as much as said anything, much less why he was there, and already Iago was offering help. He assumed that Iago did not know who he was and that the parrot automatically made the assumption that he was one of his students.

"My name is Jack Living" Jack replied, deciding to get straight to the point, "I'm here because I want to learn how to sing."

Iago laughed and casually gestured towards the door with his head, still playing the piano.

"Room 14" Iago instructed, "See the Snow Queen, she's the choir director, she'll help you out."

Jack moved a little closer, making sure to get within the bird's view.

"I've already seen Elsa" Jack returned, "She got all bitchy. I was hoping you could help."

Iago nodded solemnly and sighed, it was deep and full of thought. Still he continued to play, almost as if his life depended on finishing it, as if by completing the piece, which was relatively short, Iago would fulfill some sort of purpose or accomplishment that he had not yet filled previously. The parrot, after much thought and a few more notes, slowly turned around and faced Jack, his fingers, anatomically wings, temporarily having a mind of their own.

"I'm an orchestra teacher" Iago continued, clarifying, "Whoever sent you here was mistaken. Unless you want to pick up an instrument I can't help you."

Discouraged, and now believing that Basil had led him astray in order to teach him some of lesson in lowering expectations, Jack picked up the document on the piano and gave a nod, for he was tired of wasting time and wanted some kind of forward progress. Just as he was about to reach the door and return to the hallway the piano stopped.

"Wait a minute kid" Iago exclaimed, flying over and hovering softly behind him, "Who sent you?"

"Basil" Jack answered, hoping against hope that the name meant something.

At hearing Basil's name, Iago took a moment beside himself, for he did not think himself to be worthy of such high regard as to be recommended by anyone, let alone Basil of Baker Street. It was an honor, a privilege, and compliment of the highest order to have one's name spoken by the detective, for with it came a certain degree of status, one that signified that you had made it somewhere.

"What did he say?" Iago began excitedly, not really wanting to know any details, "And why?"

Before Jack could even answer, Iago had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into his office, on the back wall of the main room. Rushing inside and closing the door, Iago immediately began clearing space, for the office was quite messy- littered with papers and sheets of music as well folder upon folder of symphonies and opuses that he had written and had yet to have been published- ultimately throwing everything on the floor or in the recycling bin, Iago bade that Jack sit in the opposite chair, and upon having done so, sat in his own.

Iago's office, to get a better view of the space, was small in comparison to most. Three large filing cabinets, all of them full, lined the right wall immediately next to the door; next to them was the desk and then the far left wall, on which was an empty shelf that was meant for awards, plaques and documents, and a few spare music stands. Behind the desk were several framed pictures that hung in chaotic orderl. In the upper right, a picture of Iago and his twin brother, Othello; to the left, one of Carpet and Abu playing a game of chess; in the center towards the right, Jafar, the late Grand Vizier; next to him, the late Sultan; further down, Genie, Aladdin, and Jasmine. In the center of the wall the most prominent picture, as well as the largest, Iago's wedding photo, simple in nature and design the bride and groom sitting in a tree watching a setting sun over an Arabian villa.

"Very personal pictures aren't they?" Iago said after some time had passed of relative silence, Jack having taken in the scene, and Iago examining him in turn.

"Yes" Jack replied, "Why?"

Iago gave a subtle laugh and an equally subtle smile.

"To remind me what's important in life" Iago answered, "To always remember that no matter what I have going on that I got people behind me, folks that care about me and want me to succeed. "

Iago paused, as if waiting for something, after a few seconds he continued.

"It's also my office and I can do what I want with it."

It was then that awkwardness began to sit in, for neither of them knew exactly what to say, Jack, unsure of how to go into the conversation, and Iago, not really good at small talk to begin with. Still, Jack commended the bird in his head for trying, which is more than he could say for most.

"So you want to sing huh?" Iago said, starting off, "What makes you want to sing? Passion, money, opportunity? Something else entirely?"

Jack did not really have an answer to the question, at least one that he knew would satisfy Iago, for he knew by the nature of the question that Iago valued passion over everything else. If Jack answered honestly, then his answer would be simple- opportunity, a chance to get out. If however, he gave his answer as money or opportunity, or something else entirely like fame or respect, all of which were realistic instead of idealistic, than he would be only be serving himself, and thus deny Iago both satisfaction and the need to teach.

"Opportunity, fame, and respect" Jack declared, "Those are my reasons Teach, and I'd say they're pretty damn good ones. No lesson required today."

Iago nodded and laughed again, this time heartier than before, for he could not deny Jack's logic, for it was sound and based in reason, especially given the circumstances.

"I'm not accusing you of anything" Iago defended, once again clarifying himself, "I'm just trying to get a sense of where you stand. Opportunity, fame, respect, money, those things are well and good, worthy to obtain anything in its own right. But Passion? Love? Those are the reasons you do things. All that other stuff, that's what careers are for. Passion and love. That is what life is for. Don't do something because you have to, do it because it gives you reason to live. "

The clock on the wall read 1:15, the day was almost over. Taking note of this, Iago pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and made a note which he then signed.

"Take this to your class" the bird said, "Tell your teacher you were with me studying. No tricks, no embellishments, just stick to the note and you'll be fine. Don't skip classes again. I want your report cards and your evaluations handed in to me as you receive them…that goes for tests too. You slip up and I'll have your ass."

Jack raised his eyebrows, confused as to what was going on.

"What does that mean?" Jack asked, hoping for more clarity, "Does that mean you'll help me?"

Iago shoved him out of the office and back into the main room, he continued to push until he got to the hallway door.

"Consider our little chat your first lesson" Iago replied, "And don't worry about Elsa. You just stay on top of your grades and I'll take care of her."

"You're serious aren't you?" Jack continued, "You're actually considering this."

Iago nodded, "I'm trusting you to keep your part of the bargain."

Jack immediately felt guilty at hearing the word bargain, for he had nothing to give Iago that would compare to the potential of a life-changing skill.

"I don't have any money" Jack exclaimed as he opened the door, "But I will find a way to pay you back. First law of the streets- always pay your debts."

It did not take much thought for Iago to think of a solution, in fact, he thought of several solutions, and all of them Jack seemed capable of doing. It was a combination of physical labor, community service, and personal stakes.

"Alright then" Iago said confidently, "Since you're so eager to pay me for my time, here's the deal. I teach you and you do whatever it is I say for two months. That should be enough time for you to get the idea and be on your own. Nothing too extensive. It's mostly manual labor, I will not lie, but it's also helping me tie up a few loose ends, fix what I broke over the years. What do you say? Do we have a deal?"

There was little need argument and little time to protest, leaving Jack with the option to agree with the terms. Walking out the door and into the hallway, Jack turned to say goodbye and to express his thanks, only to find that Iago had already returned to his piano, starting up "Dancing Dogs". As the upbeat melody returned Jack could not help but smile and think to himself that maybe it wasn't going to be such a bad year after all. As he walked towards his next class, this thought was only aided with the realization that the entire day had been spent, for no sooner did he reach Room 14 did the school bell ring, releasing the horde of children from their prison, the first day having come to a close.


	7. Sympathy for the Devils

Sympathy for the Devils: A Simple Act of Kindness

On the corner of Third and Horn Street, a few blocks away from the school is a small diner, Friz's Café. Friz's was a diner that catered specifically to program members, who only paid a small entrance fee and then otherwise received free food as a courtesy to the teachers and staff. In addition it also prided itself on community service, hosting canned food drives, soup kitchens, and limited free food to the surrounding homeless and disenfranchised. The diner, in comparison to the school, was well kept and clean, despite both of them being part of the program and in part funded by Disney Corporation.

The diner was run in part by Horace, when he wasn't working at the school on weekends and some holidays; and in part by Remy the rat, who decided for public relations purposes, as well as to potentially expand his business, to assist the Possibility Initiative. As the afternoon began to wind down and the school let out the students, Remy began to receive his business.

Every day, at approximately 3:45, Ursula, accompanied by Scar, and Archdeacon Claude Frollo, knocked on the windowpanes of Friz's, their respective tentacles, paws and hands outstretched in charity. Remy, every day, would walk up to the door and turn them away.

"Paying customers only the first two hours of business" Remy said, not bothering to open the door, "Come back later!"

Still they persisted, their faces of defeat and hunger, yet resilient. Ursula, taking it upon herself to speak for the group turned to Archdeacon Frollo and motioned for his coin purse. Frollo, taking it, proceeded to the count the money, only for Ursula to take it from him and slam it against the window. Her face screamed of desperation and despair, the last weeks having been unkind and difficult. Scar, mane grey and claws dull, though still healthy by lion standards, was stricken with pain and guilt, unable to put money forth because he had none to speak of, having never had need of it in the African savannah.

"Please" Ursula exclaimed, "It's not much, but it's all we have."

Remy still shook his head, for on this particular day they already had an account that was expensive enough to burn down Friz's, rebuild it, and burn it down just because they could. It would be cruel, Remy thought, to continue giving them handouts when they incurred bad credit that they would never be able to repay; if they did not pay then they would never be able to secure stable jobs and never be able to have a normal life. That being said, Ursula, only being recently fired, still had her last few paychecks to fall back on, so she was considerably more well off than the others- Scar, who had come to the area with the hope of joining the Initiative only to be turned away; Claude Frollo, on the other hand, had moved to the area after leaving France, and then St. Canard, in an attempt to live a simpler life, one that is not bound by politics or government. Until recently, Frollo had been doing well for himself, having found a position at the local Catholic Church, only to be dismissed when his past was discovered.

"Go away" Remy continued, "I can't let you do this to yourselves. I'm sorry but bad credit is worse than no credit. You want food, you'll have to talk to the school, see if they'll let you have their leftovers."

Scar, at this point, resisted the urge to leap through the glass and maul the mouse, and instead, remembering his advice from his psychotherapist, breathed in and out, thinking of happier times, most of which ironically enough, involved Ursula.

"Come on" Scar said, half disgusted and half annoyed, "He's not going to help us. We'd have better luck shifting through garbage."

Frollo, who had not said much, nodded in agreement and began to walk down the street, Ursula however, stood her ground.

"No!" she cried, "I won't do it, I won't rummage through garbage like an animal!"

Scar raised his eyebrows at this, for he was very much an animal, growling at the prospect of being insulted.

"Don't say something you're going to regret" Scar exclaimed, "You're liable to lose more than you could ever hope to gain."

Remy, who could only look on this scene for so long, had retreated back into the diner, just as Robin Hood, Oswald, and Rafiki, always the first to arrive, came to the door. Ursula, Scar, and Frollo, upon seeing them could only hang their heads in shame.

"Don't bother yourselves with us" Scar declared, being closer to them, "Enjoy your meal. We were just leaving anyway."

Robin Hood stopped and looked up, calculating in his head the amount of money it would take for the simplest of meals. Whistling casually, at the same time calling Oswald over, the mathematician, Robin pulled out his wallet, glanced over at the pitiful villains and then back at Oswald.

"How much will it take?" Robin asked, whispering as so to avoid any protest from the villains.

Oswald, after a quick addition plus tax, came up with 10.25 to pay for the simplest of meals. Robin nodded and fished out a fifty, giving it to Oswald.

"Get whatever the most expensive is on the menu" Robin continued, "If it's more than fifty, I'll give you more."

Oswald nodded, understanding the instructions but confused as to why he given them. The fox, not wanting to air his concern in front, gestured towards the door. Oswald, getting the hint, opened it and the both of them walked into the diner, leaving Ursula, Scar, and Frollo on the street.

Frollo, curiosity getting the better of him, casually made his way back to the window to look in. He couldn't the conversation but he could tell that whatever it was they were talking about it was intense, Robin waving his arms around as if he were a mad man and Oswald, in turn, complementing him, his ears doing most of the talking in terms of expression, pointing straight up and stiff as board. Scar and Ursula meanwhile, simply picked up where they left off.

"Why are you here?" Scar began, repeating himself, "You have no reason to be here, you still have a place to go home to, so why do you stay?"

Ursula did not answer directly, the real reason being complicated and rather complex on an emotional level, instead deciding to give Scar the silent treatment. Ursula did not move, not wanting to leave and yet at the same time, not wanting to stay; she was not afraid of what she was going to say, but afraid of what she would not say. Both the same answer and both equally damning, to answer the question honestly would clear her conscious but at the same time potentially ostracize her from what little community she maintained.

"We're Disney" Ursula exclaimed, speaking the truth, "We have to stick together."

Scar nodded, reading into Ursula's words and smiling at the hidden meaning that only he, Ursula, Frollo, Iago, and Pete understood. For Scar though, it had a second, personal meaning, one that transcended all others, entering the spiritual and eternal; a promise that if made would defy logic and reason on an intellectual level and yet completely fulfill it at the same time. Moving closer, Scar hung his head, a small tear coming from his eye and landing on his whisker.

"I can't let you do this, not for me." Scar whispered, "Get out of here while you still can. Leave this city behind -"

He paused, not really sure what to say or it if was appropriate. After a few seconds of silence, Scar went against his better judgement. With the intensity of a melodrama, reducing himself to the emotional level of a confused yet well-meaning teenager who read nothing but romantic novels and recited playwrights like Shakespeare and Hemmingway as if they were the only writers on the subject lacking all context and thereby perverting its meaning, Scar continued with one of the most cliché and overused statements in the history of mankind.

Robin Hood, at this point, had just about had enough; he had been arguing with Oswald for the past ten minutes about the ethics of paying for food only for it to be given to those such as Ursula, Scar, and Frollo. Robin maintained that the status of their former lives did not matter, the fact that they were villains was insignificant compared to the present, in his mind to judge someone based on the past was a greater sin than any which could have possibly been committed. Oswald believed, as most did, that the villains, particularly those who had performed heinous crimes (murder, treason or homicidal rampage specifically) should be incarcerated or otherwise eliminated.

"Have you no forgiveness?" Robin asked, amazed that Oswald would take such a position, "Can you not see that they are on their last legs?"

Oswald huffed, for it was typical of Robin to sympathize with the downtrodden, such was his nature, for Robin failed to see past the poverty and completely ignore the circumstances that brought them to such a state to begin with. Oswald had pointed out time and time again that their villainy had led them down the road to destruction, that their criminal behavior had gone uncorrected for too long for any kind of rehabilitation to occur. They were no longer possessed of human characteristics that warranted sympathy, instead producing only ridicule and general scorn.

"Are you blind that you cannot see what they are?" Oswald retorted, "They've killed people, destroyed our lives, ruined our towns and cities. They are everything that is wrong with the world, the Devil personified, each one a different incarnation, but all serving the same goal and working for the same purpose-the misery of everyone around them, including themselves."

The fox, although seeing Oswald's logic could not deny his own humanity by agreeing to it. Snatching the fifty from Oswald's hand, Robin walked over to the counter, ordered the meals, and walked towards the door.

"If what you say is true" Robin said, turning around slightly, "All the more reason for us to show compassion, lest we stoop down to their level."

Walking outside, Robin was faced with two realities, one- Frollo, who had been eyeing ever since he had come to the window, and two- Scar and Ursula, who were in their current predicament of deciding what to do with themselves. Turning to Frollo first, being the closest, Robin smiled and gave a friendly handshake.

"Here you are Archdeacon" Robin said, patting Frollo's back, "May happiness and fortune find you."

Frollo nodded, returning the handshake, saying nothing, humbly taking his seat as he began to eat. Robin, satisfied, made his way to Scar and Ursula, their conversation getting louder and more heated the longer it progressed.

"Greetings friends" Robin exclaimed, trying to be as warm as possible, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Scar and Ursula, upon seeing Robin with his plates of food, could only stare at him in confusion. It took them a few moments to put things together, for they were still inside of themselves, having gone blind to the world in their discussion. Scar, quickly and without hesitation, turned back to Ursula, for to be interrupted at such a pivotal moment was completely unorthodox.

"We need to think about the future" Scar continued, "You and I both know we can't keep doing this. It's either we end it or we fight it."

Robin, making an educated guess, assumed that Scar was talking about love. He did not openly declare it of course, lest he upset them, but he still could not help but think it all the same. The more Robin thought about it, specifically about Scar and Ursula, the more he was able to see- they were both alone, misunderstood creatures; they were both searching for something, whether it was to fill some kind of void or to further their own ends, Robin did not know. He had to, for the sake of his own belief if nothing, assume that they were better than that, that the relationship was genuine, built on time, empathy, a transcendent feeling of total completeness that could not explained by anything else.

Ursula shook her head and without warning embraced Scar as tight as she could, wrapping all her appendages around him, nearly suffocating him in the process, at the same time giving him her answer. Robin, in order not to intrude on the moment more than he already had, smiled and gently sat the plates down on the ground before them.

"If thine enemy hunger, feed him" Robin said to himself, reciting from Romans as authored by Paul, the apostle, "If he thirst, give him to drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head. Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good."

With this, Robin left them, saying nothing more nor looking them in the eye, instead thinking to himself and wondering if the act was worth the effort.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Robin is quoting Romans 12:20-21, American Standard Version.

In case you haven't figured it out by now this is a very human story and because it is a human story it must make some attempt at discussing larger issues without becoming preaching. By inserting hints of various issues into the piece, like the Romans verse, it is hoped that the message is conveyed without the suffering of the story, either in plot or entertainment value.


	8. Chapter 8

The Possibility Initiative, in an attempt to save money as well as a courtesy to its members, provided low cost housing in the form of apartments, varying in size depending on the client, in which all of the staff, save for a few, lived and slept in. The design was centered on a medium courtyard, which was a patch of grass, a few trees, and some cleverly placed bushes, with three main buildings each with twenty rooms. Because of the lack of space, for the school employed close to a hundred and fifty, the Initiative also had housing arrangements in the city, although those were comparably small in relation to the apartments, so most of the employees had simply opted to pay city rent instead of living off of company property.

Of those who lived in the apartments in the first building there were Iago and his wife, on the corner room; Mickey; Jiminy Cricket; and Gaston, who, for the taste of the ironical, taught French literature. By the time that Robin Hood reached the complex, the corner apartment was the only residence that one would consider lively.

The home of Iago was the standard of most of the apartments, with the door opening into the living room, which connected into the kitchen and then a small hallway leading into the rest of the rooms. It was spacious in design, enough room to entertain, should the need arise, Disney putting emphasis on the social aspect of living, completely disregarding personal preferences, which in this case, were modest and introverted.

Iago's wife, another scarlet macaw, Jamil, was in the process of making one of Iago's favorite dishes when she heard a knock at the door. Turning down the stove and flying over, Jamil, looking through the peephole, saw that it was Jasmine and Aladdin, each of them holding gifts. Opening the door, Jamil smiled as best she could and ushered them inside.

"Please" Jamil exclaimed, "Come in, I'm just finishing up dinner."

Jasmine handed her package to Aladdin and embraced Jamil as lightly as she could, stepping inside allowing Aladdin to enter.

"You're looking wonderful Jamil" Jasmine said as she broke away, at the same time looking around the apartment, "And this apartment is beautiful, what's your secret?"

Jamil laughed and shook her head, for it had little to do with her; the only time that she was allowed to do anything was when it involved cooking food, not because Iago was overbearing and restricting, but in that he did everything that was required, doting and meticulously going over every possible detail to ensure the closest thing to perfection.

"Ask Iago" Jamil answered, "He's the one who cleans."

Jasmine raised her eyebrows at this, as if a husband cleaning anything was a completely foreign idea. Aladdin immediately became uncomfortable, he didn't want Jasmine getting any ideas lest it require more work on his part.

"If he cleans" Jasmine continued, "Then what do you do?"

Jamil huffed and flew back over to the stove, beginning to mix in spices and the potatoes that she had sliced earlier.

"I cook" Jamil replied promptly, "Not that there's any time for it. If it's not cooking its eight hours at that damn doctor's office breaking my back for Mortimer."

Jasmine nodded and casually looked around, avoiding the issue. She had heard stories about Mortimer and his insufferable behavior, yelling and screaming at his workers who got paid the minimum wage to file papers and make appointments, not even speaking for Jamil, who was a licensed nurse.

"Mortimer can be a slave driver" Jasmine said, mostly talking to herself, "Anyway, enough about that."

Jamil smiled, agreeing, for there were enough troubles in the world without adding on to them by talking about horrible bosses and what might have been. Motioning over to the couch, where Aladdin had made himself comfortable, considering himself a guest of Iago, Jamil ushered Jasmine next to her husband and began to entertain; quickly pulling out a finger food dish that she was saving for such an occasion from the refrigerator.

"So Aladdin" Jamil began, passing out the food, "How's the Sultan business treating you?"

Aladdin shrugged, for in honesty he was not a photographer but a reporter for the local news, photography being a hobby.

"Great" Aladdin answered, lying, "Everything's fine. Agrabah's never been better, never been more prosperous."

Jasmine raised her eyebrows, for no one, at least no one she knew, ever expressed such thoughts so openly. Although she found it odd, she did not think it warranted action, for everyone told such lies in order to make themselves appear better, especially in front of people they respected. Out of respect for Aladdin's self-image and not to discredit Jamil, who bought the lie, Jasmine said nothing.

"I can't wait when all of this is over" Jamil continued ecstatically, reminiscing on Agrabah, "Before we came here we found a nice house outside the city. Next to the perfect lake and not too far from the bazaar. Hopefully it's still there when we get back."

A second knock at the door cut Jamil short. All of them collectively stared at each other and then at the door, hoping that the other would answer the door. Aladdin, to break the tension and that he was closest to the door, walked over and opened it.

Robin Hood was standing at the door, casually looking down the hallway to his right towards his own apartment.

"Robin" Aladdin said as he stepped aside, allowing amble room for Robin to pass, "What brings you here?"

Robin, remaining at the door, stuck his head in rather nervously and, upon finding that Iago was not present, retracted.

"Looking for Iago" Robin replied, "I thought that he might be teaching Elliot again today."

Jamil, at hearing Robin's voice, stopped dinner preparations and flew to the door, going so far as to embrace the new guest and peck him on the cheek.

"Mr. Hood!" Jamil said excitedly, "What a pleasant surprise! I thought we weren't expecting you till tomorrow?"

Robin, returning the gesture, shook his head as he leaned nonchalantly against the door, casually checking his wristwatch that he almost forgot he had.

"No I could have sworn it was today" Robin retorted, "Elliot's been coming here every Monday for the past month and a half for lessons and now he's not here. Odd?"

Jamil shrugged and laughed as she made her way back to the kitchen, putting the dish in the oven.

"You know how children are" Jamil replied, "Always looking to get out of work, studies, school. It's all the same to them. Life's just one big game."

Robin huffed and folded his arms, insulted at the suggestion.

"Not my son" Robin said proudly, "No, Elliot was raised better than that. He knows the value of a good education."

The fox paused for a moment, unsure if what he was thinking would be appropriate to speak aloud; for Jamil, being childless, was in no position to question his parenting techniques or the behavior of his son. The only right that Robin could see her having in that regard was the right to tell him of misbehavior and wrongdoing; he, being the father, would then give out the appropriate punishment. Robin decided, for the sake of the friendship that he had with the parrots, to keep his opinions to himself.

Jasmine, who was listening, reached over to the coffee table where the finger food tray was placed and helped herself to a cheese cube, at the same time motioning to Robin, who waved her off, for he was not particularly hungry nor was he in the mood for eating.

"Don't worry Robin" Jamil continued as turned on the facet, washing, "One missed lesson isn't going to kill him."

Robin could not help but disagree, especially if he ever got his hands on him; for months on end the only thing that Elliot talked about was playing piano. He had repeatedly told his father about dreams of being as good as Beethoven, but instead of classical music, taking on a contemporary pop music approach. Naturally, Robin gave his son the appropriate encouragement and attention, going one step further and paying Iago for the service of teaching him. It was incredibly annoying to say the least that Elliot had skipped out on the lesson, despite the fact that Iago was not present to administer it. To Robin, it was the principle that mattered.

"I'll leave you to your guests" Robin said as he walked away, "Tell your husband that I will compensate for today even though he did nothing."

Jamil shook her head in protest, "Oh no" she replied, stopping him from leaving entirely, "We couldn't accept it. Keep your money Robin. Buy Marion something special."

Robin laughed at Jamil's humility, it was a quality that he found in few people and something that he wished he possessed.

"I insist" Robin persisted, "You both have been so good to us, it would be ridiculous not to give you something for it. If you will not accept it as payment, think of it as a gift."

Jamil nodded and gave a soft smile, causing Robin to mirror it and nod in turn. Without another word, the fox waved goodbye to Jasmine and Aladdin and made his way down to his apartment. Walking through the door, Robin was greeted by no one except the darkness of the living room.


End file.
